Eleven 11
by starsthatguide
Summary: Sherlock and the Doctor have a moment on the train. Wholock Fluff oneshot Might make two shot , I'm bad at summaries, I'll learn.


Sherlock watched as the Time Lord sat across from him wrestled with the handcuffs on his wrists; the Consulting Detective decided he was not going to help him out. He had already managed to help him escape from a police station and onto the next train to Scotland, which was easy for Sherlock. What was hard was ditching Lestrade and avoiding his brother, this situation seemed to arise every time the Doctor was in the city.

Sherlock looked out to the passing countryside; he had managed to acquire a compartment for the two of them with the use of Mycroft's ID card. Just big enough for the two of them and in a carriage where most people like to keep their secrets hidden. Why there still existed a train with the interior of an old steam train with exterior of a modern one was beyond him.

He heard the faint clatter of metal hitting metal. The hand cuffs had now been placed on the table next to the window, leaving the Doctor to massage his wrists, to numb the dull pain in his muscles; he couldn't quite remember how long he had them on for.

"You never explained to me why you were there in there first place Doctor." addressed Sherlock, adopting his normal pose of placing his hands under his chin in a "prayer" position. His scarf and coat had been place in the seat next to him.

"Oh that," said the tweed wearing man, leaning back into the red, polyester seats. "The usual, being in places I shouldn't be."

"I thought you weren't going to be back in England for another day or two though?" questioned Sherlock. The Doctor wasn't much for time keeping but he liked keeping to a schedule at least, even if it was loosely based on the feelings of the blue box he called a time machine.

"Things change Sherlock," The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, rock which glowed a bright blue when it caught the sunlight. "And sometimes we can't do a thing about it." He placed the rock on the table.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sat back in his seat.

"You do have a way with avoiding the question, don't you Doctor." Sherlock picked up the rock, examined it for a few seconds before pocketing it; he'll examine it in detail when he was back in London.

Sherlock casted his memory back to the police station, walking in after helping the police on a string of murders, he didn't have his normal doctor with him because he was off in Dublin again (Sherlock never really understood why John liked that place). He thought he would be able to go in and get a simple lecture from Lestrade about not stealing busses again.

Lestrade though had another thing in mind.

"I found something that belongs to you." he announced indicating to the room he had emerged from a few minutes before.

Sherlock walked in, followed by Lestrade and found the brown hair, tweed wearing and blue bow tie wearing man sat in a chair. He smiled waved to the Consulting Detective who gave him a brief look of confusion; the Doctor's smile turn from happy to nervous as he mouthed the words "sorry" to Sherlock.

"You know that I'm going to have to call your brother about him," clarified the inspector, he pulled out his brick of a phone out of his pocket. "This time I am not letting him off."

"You say that," Sherlock began to say, walking over to the Doctor and retrieving the Sonic Screwdriver from a pocket the Time Lord couldn't get to. "But you know that in five minutes he won't be here." He tried to open the metal bindings on the man's wrists but he must have had them on the wrong setting because they refused to open.

Sally popped her head through the door way.

"Mycroft Holmes is here."

Sherlock and the Doctor were already out the window, finding the nearest thing to could take them long distance and quite fast.

Sherlock rubbed his eyes, the Doctor had put him in the position more than once and while he liked aggravating his brother there was only so much he could take of Mycroft. Sherlock had to already share one doctor; he didn't really want to share the other.

"You like getting me into these predicaments." mumbled Sherlock. "Getting me in trouble with my brother because I'm protecting you from him."

"You don't seem to mind." retorted the Doctor; he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees with his head resting on the back of one hand. "We both know, heck everyone knows that you are drawn to the weird and wonderful. I've known that since you were eleven, you could have told me to go and disappear after the mess I made of your Birthday party but you-"

"Didn't." Sherlock interrupted. "I didn't and that has probably been one of my better decisions."

The Doctor smiled; not one of his childish grins or opened mouth smiles, no this was something warm and soft, something that said "I love you". Sherlock found it a privileged to see this from a man who spent most of his 900 years of life in battle or running; of course Sherlock would usually reply with "you're an idiot" then skulk off to a useless experiment with no meaning; just to cause a nuisance to those around him but it was only the two of them at this moment.

"Oh come here you idiot."

It took a few minutes of rearranging but eventually they we're curled up together, cocooned in the warmth that was Sherlock's coat. They weren't talking, just happy to stay silent and watch the passing country side. The Doctor had twisted his fingers in-between Sherlock's, letting his finger tips brush against the back of his hand which Sherlock found to be a soothing gesture.


End file.
